


This Would Be the End

by UnmaskedPotential



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Counseling, Death, Drowned, Drowning, Gen, Group Therapy, Murder, Suicide, Technically Dead, Therapy, defibrillator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 01:59:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17235203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnmaskedPotential/pseuds/UnmaskedPotential
Summary: His world had turned still. The moment he was completely submerged in the shifting waves, his world had turned still...Over and over he tried to break through to the surface, but a weight held him down. Something was holding him down in a vicious, unrelenting fashion. No, wait… They were hands. Loki is drowning and someone is trying to kill him. Would this be the end for them?





	1. Chapter 1

His world had turned still.

 

The moment he was completely submerged in the shifting waves, his world had turned still.

 

It didn’t make any sense, not really. How could his world be still if the choppiness of the water and the salt of the sea were pouring into every nook and cranny of his form?

 

He was gasping for air, except his lungs wouldn’t work and his mouth wouldn’t swallow the colorless gas. Instead, he was swallowing large cups of water, inhaling the liquid, driving it further down his frosty lungs.

 

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t fucking _breathe_.

 

Over and over he tried to break through to the surface, but a weight held him down.

 

Something was holding him down in a vicious, unrelenting fashion.

 

No, wait…

 

They were hands. Hands were holding him down, wrapped around his ever constricting throat. Hands were wrapped around the muscles that were so desperately trying to fill his lungs with anything other than the fluidity that swayed around him.

 

There wasn’t anything he could hold onto. There wasn’t any way he could reach beyond the enemy and strike them.

 

He was sinking, maybe floating, maybe not, in a pool of nothingness. The choppy channels bumping into his body as he attempted to fight his way out.

 

Nothing all around him, nothing surrounding him, everything had twisted into some dark, limitless grasp of nothingness.

 

Just like when he had fallen through the void--surrounded by nothing, everything was nothing, he was nothing.

 

His vision was blurring with the stinging of the salt water to his eyes. His vision was blurring and soon there would be a permanent lapse of nothingness awaiting him in Hel. Soon there would be darkness, but for now there was blue around the edges, blue in his line of vision, cream colored skin above his torso.

 

He couldn’t help but think of his not-brother then. Childhood memories seeped into his mind like swirling flashbacks--memories of bilgesnipe, hunting, fighting, father yelling at them, snippets of mother’s cool embrace. Unbidden feelings wrapped his brain in a sickening hold: anger, envy, jealousy yet love, happiness and regret. He thought of the valiant and golden fool that was his not-brother.

 

_Was_.

 

Because while his not-brother was somewhere above the nothingness, somewhere amongst the something-ness, he was not, and he was below it all, just as he had been all his life. He was nothing and he was emerging into nothingness, just as he had done when he’d courageously let go of the staff and fell, fell, fell into the void.

 

His not-brother was above him in every way shape and form--physically for his strength, physically above him on the ground, safe and filled with anger and heroic jubilation. Emotionally his not-brother was above him, the younger demigod foolish in his sentimental feelings and woe is me.

 

His not-brother was alive, would be alive. But he? He was not.

 

He could not be.

 

For all his time spent cooped up in the libraries of Asgard, all his time spent fighting with and alongside his not-brother, all his hundreds of years of life--not once had he considered learning how to swim.

 

A fool he was, indeed. For such heaps of information would have been helpful and life-saving to him now, in this moment. Even with fingers grasping his throat with taunt muscles, at least he could have swam, could have done something other than buckling and shaking uselessly under the gallons and gallons of water.

 

Salt water, ocean water, drowning.

 

If Asgard’s all-seeing aid would ever have warned the demigod that he would one day in the future be drowning, the younger prince would have scoffed at him. He wouldn’t have believed a word the golden eyed man had said, and he would have shaken his head and hurried back to dive his nose into yet another spellbound book.

 

But here he was. Here he was, under the water of a Midgardian ocean, drowning. With someone, someone filled with the rage and hate that once coursed through the trickster’s veins holding him down.

 

_Murder._

 

Oh, by the Norns, how could he have forgotten that flimsy little detail?

 

Not only was he drowning, not only was he to be dying in such a pathetic manner, but he was being actively **killed**. Whoever rode above him was strangling him, choking him with the ocean at their hand, pushing him down, down, down further.

 

_Murder suicide_.

 

It had to be. How else would this foul creature be able to kill him with the ocean water if they weren’t also sprouting on the branch and killing themselves too?

 

_In order to kill me, they have to kill themselves, too_. The thought rattled like coins in the trickster’s quickly fleeing brain.

 

Well, now didn’t that just narrow down the list?

 

But wait, Midgard…so he was on Midgard. If he was on Midgard, then that did narrow down the list.

 

That meant…oh by the Norns, it meant----

 

His body was growing limp. Water logged and heavy, this was it.

 

These would be his last thoughts, no air available for him to utter them from his bluing lips. No stack of paper available for him to record the moment they began to be caught in the delusions of nonsense.

 

He felt his body spasm, three, four, five more times.

 

He felt the fluid gathering in his lungs, the sea becoming part of him and him with it.

 

His eyes were closed, had been for quite some time, it was just too painful, too unbearable to watch--watch as the water surrounded him and he fell, deeper, deeper into oblivion.

 

Maybe this time it would hurt less. Maybe he wouldn’t find himself on some other planet in the nine realms, not to be tortured and manipulated by the hands of other alien creatures.

 

Maybe this time he would truly, truly find peace. Freedom, the taste of it on his tongue was questionable but he had such a quench for it.

 

Maybe, just maybe, this was it….

 

If things would just go his way for once, this would be his end.

 

His body gave one last kick, his heart one last beat.

 

But he was Loki Laufeyson, and things just never went his way. Not even in his death.


	2. Chapter 2

The events happened in a chaotic blur of emotion. One minute the Avengers gang was all together battling against the very last of their latest foe, and the next Thor’s younger sibling was plunging through the ocean beneath them.

 

But he wasn’t alone.

 

Something snapped in the archer when he laid his eyes on the shadowy figure that could only have been his enemy from years ago. He had dreamed of this fateful day, a day where he could enact revenge on the demigod who tore his mind to shreds and left him and the team with the pieces to pick up in the aftermath.

 

He had acted so quickly, he hadn’t had time to process what the end would mean for him.

 

He just knew he had to kill him, the trickster, he just had to.

 

So he pushed the demigod out of the helicarrier they were all held up in. And the two of them fell through the air weightless like balloons, and they crashed into the ocean, limbs flailing in every direction.

 

He hadn’t expected the wrath of the waves as soon as he plunged into the water, and he was even more surprised by the way the trickster responded to the sudden and unexpected impact. But he used this to his advantage, wrapping his fingers tightly around his enemy’s exposed throat, the idiot who had armor around his whole frame besides his weakest point.

 

The water rushed up the archer’s nose, and despite holding his breath for as long as he could, he knew he was kicking the bucket real soon when his legs started to spasm and his lungs kicked out all the air they once had. Salty, contaminated liquid squeezed into every morsel of his being, and still he dared not to look away with his piercing gaze into the horrified eyes of his once hell bent mind controller.

 

The details got blurry around the edges when his vision swam into nothingness. But he was still sure he had done the right thing, even as his body crumpled into oblivion.

 

 

 ~ #*# ~

 

It was the Man of Iron that found him first.

 

Red and gold armor glinted in the afternoon sunlight, as the glum man carefully placed his younger brother onto the net of soft, warm sand.

 

“Jarvis, run a vitals check,” Stark barely stated, his voice softer from the pain of emotion and the wheeling of his thoughts as he was still trying to process what the hell had just happened, much like the rest of them.

 

All he knew for sure was that two people were down--one was Legolas and the other was somehow, some way, for some reason, their long ago enemy Loki.

 

How the day could get any weirder was beyond him.

 

“Very well, sir,” came Jarvis’ reply, initializing an analysis of the trickster’s vital signs….or lack thereof.

 

Tony paused. He paused and he suddenly took a mental step backwards and really took in the scene for a moment.

 

How was it that the Avengers had managed to arrive as safely as possible onto this nearby beach, dig out their friend and prior villain and was somehow expected to just save them both?

 

Sure, right, it had been eight years since New York--just the mention of the word made Tony’s insides scream. Did that mean they were just supposed to move on? When their enemy suddenly appeared and short of doing nothing, could have been up to something, and they were just what, supposed to help him?

 

Tony swallowed, his brown eyes gazing over to Barton’s soggy form, where Bruce was already starting CPR and Natasha, eyes wide and hair wild, was busy giving mouth to mouth resuscitation.

 

Tony could practically feel the concern and fear ebbing off of their Thunder god, but he couldn’t help the quiet, almost muted statement fall from his lips,

 

“Are you sure you want to save him?”

 

Tony didn’t miss a beat when the heavy hands of the golden god landed on his shoulder plates. In between the incomprehensible yelling that Thor was making and the look of contempt shot his way from Steve, Tony guessed he had said that out loud for everyone to hear. Which, in retrospect, wasn’t the greatest of ideas he’d come up with.

 

Short of being pounded into the ground by Thor’s angry fists, Steve just yelled at Thor to back off and told Tony, “Stark! This isn’t the time for moral dilemmas! We have to help NOW and only now, do you understand me?”

 

Tony bit his lip behind his faceplate and nodded stiffly.

 

“Vitals are nonexistent. Reindeer Games is deader than dead.”

 

“Then let’s do our best to change that,” Steve replied, eyeing Tony apprehensively.

 

Whether Steve gave him that look because he was uncertain of Tony’s commitment to saving the trickster, or because Steve had his own dilemmas about what they were about to do, Tony wasn’t quite sure. All he knew next was that he was kneeling over the demigod and pushing his interlocked hands down into the god’s armored chest.

 

Steve took up the front, leaning back Loki’s skull and pressing his warm lips to a frozen corpse.

 

Tony tried not to think too much about that, his stomach doing flip flops in a symptom of disgust.

 

They worked in unison like that for a while. Tony applying pressure to what he guessed was the area around Loki’s heart, Frost Giant anatomy meant he didn’t know exactly where that organ lied (if he even had one to begin with), and Steve taking up the supply of oxygen, dearly needed in Thor’s brother.

 

Tony’s ears easily picked up the sputtering and admonishment when Barton started to come back to the land of the living. He could just make out Natasha’s warm voice muttering to Clint and Bruce heaving a sigh of utmost relief. He could see out of the corner of his eye Clint being rolled over to his side, the archer spitting up water from his frozen lungs as he shivered from the aftermath of his stupid ass decision.

 

Tony wanted to go over to his friend and slap him on the back in a congratulatory ‘You’re the man!’ way, but he was too busy fighting his internal demons as he watched in his mind’s eye the Chitauri’s army invading New York. He watched with a brisk detachment as Loki, then, had tossed him out his own window, as the trickster had lied unceremoniously upon his floor when all of the Avengers had gathered together to watch his pitiful form ask for a drink.

 

Tony bit his lip absently behind the face plate, thankful for his suit still being on so that no one but Jarvis could witness the emotional toll this was taking upon his soul.

 

“What’s happening?” Thor asked through pale lips, eyes glancing from Barton’s more lively form to Loki’s still and lonesome self.

 

“He’s dead, Thor,” Tony muttered in distaste as he eyed the trickster below him and felt a pang of guilt spread through his limbs. Maybe he was being too harsh on the dude, even if the trickster was as fucked up as he was (and he was), he was still shitting on Thor’s brother, and he was going to pay for that hell later.

 

Steve scoffed in displeasure, and Tony for a moment considered that Steve was working harder to save Loki than he himself was.

 

“But you can bring him back?” The thunder god’s voice broke on that last word, choked out between helpless sobs, his emotions unfurled and torn between wanting his brother alive and knowing Loki would want to be let go of.

 

But Thor was his brother, no matter what Loki said otherwise, and he couldn’t let him go so fast, not ever. So Thor held onto the broken pieces of hope that glowed in his arms, and watched in dismay at his brother’s cold form, ashen and lost before him.

 

“We’ll do the best we can, Thor,” Bruce had made his way over to them, now, and Tony looked up to see Clint leaning onto Natasha, his face buried in her shoulder. Tony assumed Clint was coughing, by the wracking movement of his shoulders, but he thought just as quickly that he may as well be sobbing. Tony swallowed thickly; this was turning into a weirder day by the second.

 

“Do you need me to switch?” Bruce asked Tony, cool eyes gazing into the blank face plate.

 

Tony considered it for half a moment, but shook his head.

 

“Nah, I’ve been lifting more weights than you so I’ve got this covered,” Tony forced a small chuckle of what was meant to be lightheartedness into the conversation but what sounded more like a pained whimper.

 

Steve snorted again, rolling his eyes in response, and easily continuing the breaths he was supplying to Loki’s lungs.

 

Loki.

 

My God, Tony thought to himself. How again was it that they wound up in this situation? Twenty minutes into trying to revive a demigod who once wanted world domination and still, Tony was helping him out, trying to save his ass for the sake of his older brother and the tears of regret and shame that would inevitably encase the god if they were to lose.

 

As each minute ticked on and Loki showed no response of returning to life, Tony’s icy stance slipped and melted more and more.

 

Okay, Tony could understand holding a grudge, but when he thought about it longer, this was someone’s brother, someone’s family that he was working on trying to save. This … demigod below his very hands was someone people cared about, or once did, or always will--in Thor’s case. Somehow the trickster had the ability to be loved for deeply while returning utmost hatred in response to those who cared for him. He was prideful and boastful, but also lost and emotional. He didn’t want help from others, and how could Tony pretend not to relate to that?

 

Yeah, he had done some fucked up shit in his hundreds of years of living, but to Thor, he was still and would always be his brother.

 

Holding the fate of your friend’s sibling in your fists was a lot to ask for, and it was then that Tony swallowed hard and put more pressure down in his tired, locked up shoulders.

 

He had to try his best to save Loki, despite how much he hated the guy, if only to increase his chances of sleeping better at night, knowing he did all he could to help out Thor.

 

This wasn’t about his problems with the demigod, but about Thor’s love and caring for his brother despite all the bullshit Loki had done.

 

This was about another life lying within their hands, and the power they had in that moment to do everything they could to either help him or aid in his death.

 

No, Tony wasn’t about to become a murderer. His wit and charm and philanthropist nature didn’t roll that way.

 

He was going to save Loki, and no amount of time passing was going to change that.

 

Even if, terribly so, it had been about forty minutes since this whole incident had begun.

 

“We’ve got to switch,” Steve’s leadership role suddenly imploded like fireworks in Tony’s skull.

 

“What? No, Cap, I’ve got this now,” Tony realized then how out of breath he sounded.

 

“We don’t need you going into cardiac arrest too, Tony,” Steve pointed out easily, eyeing the billionaire with a knowing look.

 

Tony panted in response, unlocking his fingers from their hug and leaning back on his hunches. Tony’s sore muscles screamed at him from the sudden change of movement, and for a moment he was thankful that Steve had suggested the switch, that is, until he saw Thor light up his hammer with a bolt of lightning.

 

Eyes wide, Tony cried out, “Whoa, Thor, what are you doing?”

 

Before anyone else had time to react, their forms surrounding Loki, Thor unleashed a trickle of the lightning onto his brother’s chest.

 

Loki’s shoulders rose up from the sandy beach at the lurching electricity flowing through him, only to collapse back to the ground without a change.

 

Steve stared in shock at the sudden ferocity that Thor was unleashing, Tony looked dumbfounded behind his mask and Bruce looked oddly impressed.

 

They watched as Thor sent through a series of shocks into Loki’s system, hoping with halted breath that this makeshift defibrillator would create some positive effect.

 

To Tony’s dismay, Jarvis’ readings on Loki’s vitals remained eerily silent.

 

Tears formed at the edges of Thor’s vision, as he sent wave after wave of white blue light into Loki. He would not give up, he couldn’t, this was his brother and he would be damned if the Allfather did nothing to save him.

 

 _Please, Father_ , Thor silently pleaded, the storm clouds blocking out the sunlight as the grey black sky mimicked his outcries.

 

An hour must have been clocking in when Thor, anger pummeling through his veins, sent up a large wave of lightning from Mjolnir and shot it once again into Loki’s chest.

 

Thor steadied the power of electricity, channeling as much as his love and desperation into the action as he could muster, watching as Loki’s body enveloped into a glow of white while his back arched higher off the ground before Thor reluctantly released him.

 

He was about to try again, when the Man of Iron held up a quick hand.

 

“Wait! We’ve got something!”

 

Shoulders collapsed inwards, his heavy hands dropping his hammer as he waited with a breath held tightly in his bosom for Loki to react.

 

When they all heard the sputtering and saw the cracked lips part, water spewing out from the trickster’s mouth, they all let out a long, released sigh.

 

Tony and Steve acted quickly to push Loki onto his left side, watching as the trickster spit up rivulets of water and a concerning thin coat of blood. Tony glanced quickly at Bruce, whose eyes were narrowed in confusion about the presence of the red liquid.

 

“Loki!” Thor called out, dropping to his knees out of weakness from the turmoil of emotions that had been wracking through his body at high speed.

 

Tears sprinkled down from Thor’s face as his hands clawed out to his little brother, hoping to hold him again for it had been so long. A yearning to hug his younger sibling, to coddle him and whisper to him how much he loved him went through Thor like shockwaves.

 

He had almost lost his brother, LOST him, for good, forever.

 

Thick fingers met the green and black leather armor of Loki’s shoulder, and Thor could feel the twinge from his brother’s body as he jerked away.

 

A feeling of familiarity at rejection came over Thor’s face by a wrinkle in his forehead and a softening of his eyes, but in truth, his younger sibling was not out of the woods yet. Rather, these woods were just beginning.

 

Loki sputtered and coughed repeatedly, for what seemed like longer than the time he had been out of life. His green eyes were hidden away behind the darkness of his eyelids, as he continued to splutter and cry out from what took forever to dawn upon them.

 

“…He’s in pain…” Tony uttered softly, his voice cracking as anxiety suddenly encompassed his features. _Oh shit_ , Tony thought, _what have we done?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1/2/2019) A/N: 
> 
> This chapter was written: 12/9 & 12/10/16, 2/24/17
> 
> So I've unfortunately landed squarely into writer's block lately so here's hoping it does go away with time and I'm able to actually continue writing for the 5 stories I currently have in progress. D: 
> 
> Wish me luck!  
> Leave a review to let me know what you think about this chapter! Not gonna lie, I totally didn't reread it but I will soon since it's a story I haven't revisited all that much lately. Also, I have a new story coming out soon (once the writer's block goes away). :)  
> Happy January!
> 
> Sept. 2019 update:  
> Changed duration of time since after NYC (AKA was 5 years when I started writing this but I changed it to 8 after Chp 4) *which I only just now realized I never uploaded on here, will be fixing that shortly!!*


	3. Chapter 3

_Bubbles formed upon his lips._

 

**_Eeeeeeeerrrrrghhhhhh._ **

_Hands wrapped around his flesh._

**_Eeeeeeeerrrrrghhhhhhhhh._ **

_Choking._

_Strangled._

_Dying._

**_Darkness._ **

_P-A-I-N._

_No one to save him._

_No one to calm him._

_Sinking._

_Drifting._

_Eclipsing._

_This was it._

_He was gone._

_No - more._

_Forever._

_G-O-N-E._

_He would not be coming back._

_How could he?_

_He was dead--just as he was always meant to be._

**_Dead_ ** _._

_Erased._

_Like driftwood._

_In a sea._

_He had died._

_This was it._

_The end._

_No more….._

 

~#*#~

 

“Loki.”

 

A sweet voice sounded in the darkness.

 

“Loki.”

 

He…knew that…voice.

 

“Looo--ki.”

 

“M-mother?” His eyes refused to open, the muscles not cooperating.

 

“Loooo--kiiiiiiii!”

 

Her voice rang shrill, longer--fading.

 

“Mother.”

 

Green eyes sprang open.

 

Bright light flooded into his pupils--overshadowing the existence of all things surrounding him.

 

“Mother?” his voice raised an octave. His eyes were not adjusting--they were not taking in the space around him. He didn’t know where he was, barely even registered who he was, and he could hardly hear his mother’s comforting tone of voice hang around his shoulders.

 

“Mother!” Loki cried out, though he would never admit it. His eyes searched frantically for her as his vision took painstakingly long to clear.

 

_Where was she? Where was she?_

_Was she hurt? Alone? Lost?_

 

His mind raced ahead, images and words flooding his vision as the world shimmered and sparkled in bits of white.

 

“Mother?” he asked again, voice lowering to a whisper.

 

Maybe--they weren’t alone.

 

Mistrust colored his tone as he asked for her again.

 

Up ahead, he witnessed a furl of her peach robe turn the corner of the white bricked wall--green trees lining the horizon as he realized they were together in a garden back in the castle of Asgard.

 

He looked down towards his legs but found a fog of white staring back at him.

 

Confusion flitted across his irises as it dawned on him that wherever they were, it was probably not real, not on Asgard and he wouldn’t be able to move.

 

“Is this a dream?” he asked aloud, hoping his mother’s robes would return back to him.

 

“Isn’t it always?” A new voice lifted from the light as a shortened, Dutch version of Thor appeared to the left of Loki.

 

“Brother?” Loki questioned, lips drawn to an amused frown.

 

“Who else would I be?” Thor muttered, tossing a yellow and red flower into the air over Loki’s raven locks.

 

Loki blinked, “Where are we?”

 

Thor’s head tilted back as he boisterously laughed.

 

“Where? But in your mind, of course!”

 

“My…mind?”

 

“Why yes, brother! And what a mighty fine mind this is! Don’t you recall?” Thor hastened a serious gaze to his younger sibling.

 

“Recall what exactly?” Loki murmured, gaze fixating on his brother as if he hadn’t seen him in years--which felt vaguely familiar at least.

 

“The accident, of course!” Thor’s tone returned to a cheerful uproar as more flower petals filtered down over Loki’s head.

 

Loki found himself growing more perplexed and even more suspicious.

 

“What accident, Thor?” he asked seriously.

 

Thor returned the gesture by smiling wider.

 

“The accident! With the archer! You know the one--my friend, Barton, we have worked together. He shoots arrows for his line of work. A mighty fine line of work it is, mhmph!” Thor ascended floating set of pale blush stairs.

 

Loki’s deep sigh rattled through his ribcage. His dream brother was notorious for taking extra-long to fill him in on whatever nonsense was occurring in the real world. A habit that real world Thor took extra time to boast and jest with Loki.

 

“What happened in the accident, Thor?”

 

“What accident? There’s been an accident?” Thor gawked at his brother.

 

Loki took another deep breath and rolled his eyes, “With agent Barton. And myself. That accident.”

 

“Oh!” Thor exclaimed, a tutu appearing around his waist as he clicked studded red heels together. “Of course! Well, I believe it was your presence that alerted him. He acted on impulse, of course--nothing too personal--besides the fact that you controlled his mind for a period of time and forced him to kill his colleagues and go against everything he believed in, yes. Despite that, he awarded you--and himself--death of the highest order! Hehe!”

 

Thor’s unhinged babble continued on in the background as Loki’s vision blurred.

 

Dead?

 

He, Loki of Asgard, was dead?

 

A period of silence enveloped Loki as the world erased around him--depositing him suddenly into his green and gold clad bedroom in Asgard.

 

Frigga, behind him, ran her long fingers through his hair.

 

“I am afraid it is true, my dear. You passed for a time, but your brother’s friends were able to save you.”

 

Loki, suddenly and inexplicably, laughed.

 

“Ohohoho, mother, you must be mistaken. There is no way in Helheim that the Avengers of all mortals risked their petty little lives to save mine.”

 

“Then it is you who are in the wrong, Loki. For, Thor’s friends have indeed risked their lives to save yours. And, my son, you are well deserving of this rescue.” Frigga looked sadly upon her youngest, her own memories and hopes for him having been fallen to the back of her mind--too painful to think long or hard about, but resurfacing all the same in this moment.

 

Loki let out a loud, dark laugh.

 

“Mother, you think too highly of me and your love for me blinds you to the atrocities I have knowingly and willingly committed in the name of power,” Loki uttered bitterly.

 

Frigga cooed to herself under her breath.

 

“Loki, my son, you know perfectly well as do I that you have never been able to lie to me. Your tricks were always mischievous, yes, but never done out of malice.” Frigga paused for a moment, hand running down Loki’s hair, easing at his shoulders. “Until Thor’s coronation,” Frigga hesitated briefly, “I would not have expected you of all Asgardians to shield your pain as well as you did. Why, Loki, do you insist so heavily to guard your pain? Has living in Asgard truly done so much damage to your young heart and mind?”

 

Loki breathed for a few moments, uncertainties riding like waves into him as he wasn’t sure what to say or do next. There was so much pain that lay hidden behind his mother’s words and he couldn’t help but to voice the hiccup that sprang easily to his mind.

 

“But I am neither Asgardian nor truly your son.” Before Frigga could protest Loki continued. “I have laid waste to many a species. First Jotunheim then Midgard. I do not expect redemption for my crimes. I…have come to accept them and the hate that flows through my enemies veins. I do not seek pity or forgiveness--neither rehabilitation.” Loki shrugged innocuously. “If rage is meant to follow my actions of the previous century, then so be it. You must understand my perspective, mother. I was unwanted, unneeded, placed second for everything, and lied to by the ones who claimed to love me most. It…has damaged me. It may always do so. There is little hope for me yet…”

 

Loki’s green eyes cast down to the foggy floor, continuing to avoid the prowling eyes of his not-mother.

 

“You know I will never give up on you, Loki. Nor will Thor. It matters little to me what you have done--which is not to suggest it does not pain me. An individual such as yourself must go through the process of deep loss and pain to commit such heinous acts. I mean not to minimize your previous actions, and I still love you. You may not be my son of blood but you will always be mine in heart. I love you, Loki, and I believe it is time for you to begin to learn to love yourself.”

 

Loki rested in silence, understanding beginning to mend his broken shards.

 

“And how to you propose I achieve such heights in honor?” he questioned quietly, neck turning to catch a glimpse of his mother’s comforting eyes.

 

“First, you _live_ , Loki. You have spent so much of your life hidden away for your studies or letting go of your mind and soul on the Bifrost and upon Midgard--it is time for you now to lay with your wounds and learn to not pick at them but rather grow with your scars. Life treats many of us unwell, my son. It gives us many challenges and obstacles and for you to have come into this life at all means that you were born strong enough to live it. You will always be my son, and I, your mother. You can become someone again, Loki. If you are ever to fret, know my son that I believe in you. You are so strong--allow your light to shine up and above you, Loki. You were born to become a beacon.”

 

As Frigga’s words descended onto Loki, he could feel a light pressure easing over his green eyes, his lids closing shut. A sense of radiating warmth hued his cheeks as it continued to blossom up into his chest.

 

“Good night, my son,” he heard filter into his ears before blissful sleep re-encompassed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N:
> 
> So, you know, it’s been a while! I have not given up on this fic and have a bunch of updates to be doing to all of them, soon!! This piece was handwritten on January 24.2018 around 7p while I was in the hospital. I am working on Chapter 4 now, too, and will be updating the following soon (if you happen to be reading them as well): “Distorted & Disordered”, “Severed”, “A Little Unsteady.” Hope you’re all well and don’t forget to leave a review!  Thank you!!! 3/10/18 PS the page breaks didn’t work on FF.net.
> 
> Current A/N (3/3/19):
> 
> Hey guys! So I just realized the other day that I haven't updated this story to what it's like on FF.net on AO3 so I decided to change that! I'm hoping to continue it again soon, hooray! Let me know what you guys think in the comments or what your thoughts are on this story thus far! Here's hoping for more updates soon! :) xxx


	4. Chapter 4

Everything seemed to happen in a blur. One minute all of the Avengers were on a nearby shoreline and the next they were cruising fast down the interstate. Tony couldn’t exactly recall how this had all happened. His memory flitted back and forth between watching the archer tackle-jump Thor’s younger, adopted brother Loki from their helicarrier to trying to save said brother (and Barton) to realizing Loki was mumbling out in pain. It had taken over an hour to revive Loki, maybe twenty minutes or less to revive Barton. Thor’s makeshift defibrillator of his hammer was proving to have some potentially disastrous consequences.

 

Sure, Loki was alive--and that **was** huge--but he hadn’t regained consciousness, he only barely responded to external stimuli and he was obviously struggling to return to a pain free state.

 

Tony bit his bottom lip as he sat uncharacteristically silent and without his armor in the padded teal seat of the ambulance. Thor was with him and Steve as well while Bruce, Natasha and Barton were in the ambulance behind them. It was crowded, to say the least, and Tony didn’t miss a beat when the SHIELD agents turned EMT personnel clearly didn’t know what they were doing.

 

Guilt circled its way into Thor’s features as confusion lifted the brows of the EMTs as they busied themselves by doing nothing in particular.

 

One of the EMT workers, a woman with short, blonde spiky hair, placed the heart monitor wires onto Loki’s--well, it wasn’t quite his chest. He still had his armor on and trying to peel away the leather and metal was causing them difficulties.

 

The other EMT turned to Thor with large sheers in their hands.

 

“We have to cut his armor off.” It almost sounded like a question. In other circumstances it may have given Tony a chance to smile.

 

Thor, barely keeping his wits together, nodded stiffly in a manner that said _do everything you can and if you fail there will be hell to pay_.

 

They worked silently and quickly to remove what they could. The rest lay unbothered around his waist and shoulders as the blonde was finally able to place the lines.

 

A rapid pulse rate for humans blinked onto the small monitor while the oxygen levels blinked at 80. The red haired paramedic swiveled to Thor, eyes almost downcast as he asked, “Is this level normal for his species?”

Thor’s lips quivered, as though uncertain as to whether he should be insulted for the sake of his brother. He chewed on his lip, for a moment laced with second thoughts, before uttering the words, “I don’t believe so.”

 

The paramedics exchanged a glance.

 

Thor didn’t miss a beat. “What?” he asked, judgment lying heavily in his tone.

 

The red haired paramedic shifted on his feet.

 

“We’re just not sure how to proceed.” His lips smacked unceremoniously. “If we administer medications he may burn them off quicker than we can supply them but, at the same time, we’re not sure what could happen if we overmedicate him. Without more technology we can’t possibly figure out what is really going on internally.”

 

The ambulance bumped and slid over the patchy potholes and the man’s eyes shone with the perplexity of whether he should do his job or call it quits. Tony recognized his dilemma as to what his own had been an hour ago, but at least Tony had come around whereas this guy’s intentions were much shadier.

 

“If you’re saying you don’t--can’t--help him then why are you here?” Tony’s voice cracked with irritability. Who did this guy think he was?

 

Tensions rose in Tony’s shoulders as Steve diplomatically handled the situation with an, “I think you need to do as you were assigned to.” Steve’s blue eyes narrowed and Thor, looking grim, nodded as a spark of anger pierced his eyes.

 

“Do everything you can to save my brother and, if you don’t,” his lips curled back in a snarl, “you will not wish to see my wrath.”

 

The red haired man gulped audibly before he started in a haste to place an intravenous line in Loki’s bare arm.

 

Tony continued to feel inexplicably useless for the rest of the ride.

 

~#*#~

 

The doors to the back of the ambulance unlocked and swung open as the agents stumbled out, shifting their weight on their feet to enter the awaiting glass door of Avengers Tower. After them, the second ambulance opened in which Bruce and Natasha stepped out with Barton resting in shame on the gurney.

 

Bruce quickened his pace as he hollered back to their ambulance in which Loki was being wheeled out of: “Get him to the medical bay! I’ll meet you there.”

 

Bruce disappeared in a shuffle before Tony could get himself out the back. His wardrobe was in need of changing, his black band shirt was ruffled and his dark blue jeans were bunched up on one pant leg. His arms hung loosely at his sides, that awkwardness returning to him as he didn’t know what to do with his appendages when they weren’t holding some kind of tool.

 

Steve clapped a hand over Thor’s meaty shoulder, claiming some kind of reassurance that was muffled to Tony’s ears. Tony could tell he looked a mess by the exhaustion that hung from his shoulders but, if it were possible, Thor looked much worse.

 

His long blonde hair appeared almost stringy with grease as if he hadn’t showered in weeks when only a few hours had passed. His eyes were glued to the passenger in the gurney that had already escaped his line of vision as the agents were moving him into the closest elevator. Thor could faintly hear the dinging chime of the machine as they traveled farther and farther away.

 

In sympathy, Tony elbowed Thor’s ribs.

 

“He’s gonna be okay. Bruce will know what to do,” even as he said it, he wasn’t sure it was true.

 

Thor winced in what Tony thought was meant to be a smile. Tony paused for a moment before he shrugged and added, “I’m sorry, Thor.”

 

Thor’s gaze flicked to Tony as he acknowledged him again for the first time since everything had happened.

 

“I don’t even know why he was here,” he murmured sadly. “If I had known this would happen I would have…” He trailed off, almost absently.

 

Tony grimaced, “I know, buddy. It’s hard. But we’re gonna do everything we can, you know that.”

 

Thor’s attention had shifted again and as he trotted forward he said quickly back over his shoulder, “Thank you.”

 

For once, Tony felt he had earned it.

 

~#*#~

 

Bruce closed his eyes for a second, a long breath going into his lungs as he held it for two seconds and relinquished it back into the air with an audible sigh. He repeated this calming exercise two to three times before his brown eyes parted and he returned to the problem at hand. It was Bruce’s responsibility to figure out where Loki’s pain was coming from. The demigod had sustained injuries to his neck from where Clint had strangled him, and Bruce couldn’t help but think how absurd that was, injuries related to drowning and injuries from Thor’s makeshift defibrillator.

 

Because Loki was a Frost Giant, and because it had taken multiple times to revive him, Bruce was pretty sure he had sustained internal injuries. It was possible that his veins and arteries were hardening in response to the electricity that flowed through him with every blast from Thor’s hammer. This, coupled with the lack of oxygen meant that they could be looking at a brain damaged demigod with past homicidal tendencies. Bone fractures and dislocations were also a possibility because every jolt of lightning would have caused Loki’s muscles to contract, potentially damaging the nearby bones and joints. Additionally, because of the near constant chest compressions, they were also looking at a possibly fractured sternum.

 

Basically, Bruce had his work cut out for him.

 

He turned his head to where he was hoping Natasha would appear from. He was hoping the red haired assassin would appear at any moment to help and the first thing Bruce would need were blood tests, X-rays, an EKG, an EEG and probably more painkillers. If Loki were to not regain consciousness to explain where his pain was coming from, and who knew how long that could take, they would have to funnel in painkiller after painkiller to hopefully cover up his pain until they can deal with it properly later.

 

A sliver of sweat shone on Bruce’s temples, and he had to practice his calming exercise three to four more times before he saw the familiar female face.

 

“What do you need?” Her tone was cool, masking all the emotions Bruce knew were under its surface. Unfortunately, there was no time for squabbling.

 

“X-rays, blood tests, EKG, EEG and…” Bruce looked around for a clue to his missing link. His brown eyes fell on the lightly writhing god still on the gurney with the SHIELD agents awkwardly standing by not bothering to offer help.

 

“Painkillers?” Natasha cued back in and Bruce nodded immediately, trying to return his attention to the present moment.

 

 _Why was he here?_ He couldn’t help but think as he instructed the two useless agents to transfer Loki to the awaiting cream colored bed.

 

“We have to gradually raise his temperature. Moving too fast could kill him.”

 

“Are you sure about that?” Natasha tilted her head. “He is of a different species to us.”

 

“Fuck,” Bruce uttered soon after.

 

Okay, so **maybe** he didn’t have any clue as to what he was doing either.

 

Still--he had to do something.

 

Bruce took a breath in and sighed, “You’re right. Does anyone on this team know anything about Frost Giants?”

 

“Your best bet is asking the genius in the walls.”

 

The voice surprised Bruce as his eyes turned to the inventor.

 

Tony held up a hand, “Thor essentially sent me. More so, he wanted to come, I had to tell him that wasn’t such a good idea, we argued, you know, the usual.” He offered his teammate a grim smile.

 

“But yeah, Jarvis, could you do us the favor?”

 

“Of course, sir,” was the AI’s official reply.

 

“Okay, Tony, I need you to get the portable X-ray machine,” Bruce instructed, looking next to Nat and telling her where to find the toolkit for the necessary blood test.

 

When Bruce turned around again to the demigod he was able to sigh in relief to find the two agents had disappeared and the intravenous line was still in place. Bruce ordered Nat to extract the blood in a couple of vials and push more morphine.

 

Soon, Tony was back with the machine and five shots later they had what used to be floppy black and white scans up on the nearest holographic screen.

 

Tony’s eyes narrowed looking at them.

 

“I don’t see anything.”

 

Bruce was silent for another moment before slapping his index finger on a small anomaly.

 

“There. It’s small, but a right shoulder dislocation either way.”

 

“Treatment?” Tony asked, looking impressed.

 

“Wait,” Bruce’s eyes squinted again, reviewing the slide where Loki’s left hip lay. “I think there’s a fracture there.”

 

Tony nodded, still unable to see anything.

 

“Jarvis?”

 

“I do believe I see a dislocation to Loki’s right shoulder and a hairline fracture to Loki’s left femur.”

 

“Awesome,” Tony joked, looking again to Bruce.

 

“Sir,” the AI piped in before Bruce had time to utter a single phrase, “I also believe that Loki has sustained a fracture to his sternum, likely due to the sustained pressure of the compressions.”

 

Bruce cursed again, this time more quietly. “First things first, he’ll need a splint for the arm. For the sternum, we may be able to get by with more pain medications and a cold compress. We have to watch out for pneumonia though, as a side effect from the drowning. And for the leg…”  Bruce trailed off anxiously.

 

“You also don’t have a clue what you’re doing, huh?” Tony patted Bruce’s sagging shoulder lightly. “It’s okay, science bro; you’re absolutely spectacular with thermonuclear dynamics and shitty with therapy and medically treating demigods. Turns out, us geniuses are human after all.” Tony’s smile brightened as he continued to pat Bruce’s shoulder.

 

“Tony, this is serious.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Sir?”

 

“Ah, look! Jarvis has found an answer. What is it, J?”

 

“My sincerest apologies, sir, my search results were inconclusive,” the AI had an apologetic tone, almost as if he were smiling sadly at the occupants in the medical bay.

 

“See, Bruce? None of us know what we’re doing.”

 

“I’m trying.” Bruce all but growled hastily.

 

“I know. And for now, that’s gotta be enough.” Tony sighs and crosses his arms. “So, what’s next?”

 

When Bruce was quiet for more than a minute, Tony shook his head.

 

“The guy’s not conscious, Bruce. He’s not going to complain and he sure as hell can’t offer us feedback. There are no rules here. You can do whatever you feel is right. He’s a god, he’s gotta have some kind of super strength or something. Something that makes us guys feel small and foolish. Right?”

 

Bruce nodded, staring at a gold speck on the floor as Tony spoke.

 

“As long as he doesn’t die, we’re pretty much good. The guy came back after, what, an hour of being dead?” Tony paused. “You can do this, Bruce, just think outside the box.”

 

Tony turned to Natasha to what Bruce thought would be reassurance but instead was worthy of an eye roll.

 

“You ever saw that film, “The Box”? God, it was dumb. If the partner had to go to prison for killing their spouse so ultimately their kid would be safe but parentless--man, what a movie.”

 

“Okay, time is not on our side,” Bruce began cryptically. “But we do what we can with what’s left of it. Let’s check his blood for muscle enzymes, get a splint, a good EKG and update Thor to what’s going on. Natasha, push another vial of morphine. I don’t want him in pain if we can help it. And, speaking of, start a timer so we have an idea to how fast he goes through the medicine.”

 

Bruce looked to each of them in turn before swallowing, still with tendrils of anxiety at his shoulders.

 

“Ready?”

 

And so, the countdown began.

 

~#*#~

 

“Would you like tea or coffee?” Steve dutifully stood by the Keurig in the kitchen, blue eyes gazing over at the thunder god mutely sitting on the black couch.

 

“Thor?” Steve questioned again, gently. He knew his teammate was taking this situation with much difficulty. Steve tried imagining what it would be like if he and Bucky were in his place and it made him feel breathless. Steve could only imagine the stress and regret that laced through Thor’s veins.

 

“I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Steve whispered softly as he brought his own cup of tea back with him to the couch.

 

Thor stared absently into the air as he was nudged into the small corner of the leather with a haunted expression reflecting in his own blue eyes.

 

“Do you have mead?”

 

“What?”

 

“Alcohol. Please.” Thor looked sadly at Steve, hoping he wouldn’t question him further.

 

Steve frowned, silent judgments flashing through him momentarily before he dislodged himself from the opposite couch and got settled into pouring out a glass of scotch.

 

“Do you know why he was here?” The question slipped from the super soldier’s mouth before he could mentally chastise it.

 

Thor took a long swig from the glass before gently placing it on the table.

 

“No.” The thunder god looked like he was about to say more before he held his head in his hands and decompensated. “I do not know why Barton acted in the way he did and I cannot shake my anger from within my bones. I want to hurt him as he’s hurt me, and yet I know I cannot. I only…I only wish for my brother to be okay, to understand why he was here, to make sense out of everything because…” Thor gasped. “Because nothing--”

 

“Nothing makes sense,” Steve supplied with empathy. “I’m so sorry, Thor.” Steve wordlessly refilled his glass, this time with water. “We’re going to figure this out.”

 

Thor looked as though he didn’t believe him and Steve tried not to mind. He nodded silently, taking a big gulp of the water tinkling with ice in the glass.

 

“Thank you, captain,” Thor said in earnest.

 

Steve merely nodded in response.

 

Thor was about to mention something else when the elevator dinged and Tony and Bruce trampled out.

 

“Friends,” Thor introduced, rising slightly before re-administering himself into the couch.

 

Tony immediately eye-balled the alcohol but remained steadfast by Bruce’s side. Alcohol could wait.

 

“How is my brother?” New hope sparkled with the tears in Thor’s eyes.

 

“All things considered, he’s all right,” Bruce ventured into the fire, taking in as much of the situation as he could. “It looks like he has a couple of fractures and dislocations, and we have to work on managing his pain and be cautious of any pneumonia that may arise later. But, for now, he’s okay. We ran an EKG and his heart looks normal; he’ll need a splint for the arm and we’re hoping the fracture in his leg will heal on its own. Until he wakes up, we won’t know the extent of his injuries and if there are any damaging effects of the trauma he’s endured.” Bruce placed his hands together, carefully reviewing Thor’s body language.

 

Thor had been in the dark about Loki’s condition for longer than Bruce would have liked and he had yet to tell the god that his brother burned through painkillers every twenty minutes but Bruce thought it was important to break the news gradually, not all at once, as he suspected Thor was still in a state of shock.

 

The thunder god’s blue eyes looked hazy as he absorbed what Banner had just said.

 

“My brother is part Aesir. He will heal on his own, likely faster than you all realize.” Thor’s lips shuddered into a thin line. “He will be okay. He has to be…” Thor’s shoulders began to shake as tears formed to the brim of his eyes. “My brother has been sick many a time but never so drastically. I hope you will not take ill of me to wait until I see him next. I…it’s a difficult situation. I believe I need to rest my rage for a time before I can see him again. Do you understand, my friends?”

 

Thor didn’t exactly look up at them but rather saw through them.

 

Tony was the first to say, “Take as long as you need.”

 

And Bruce added limply, “If he burns through the medicine as fast as you believe, he may awaken before nightfall. That gives you a couple of hours to replenish yourself. It’s important that you take care of yourself, Thor. Loki’s going to require all of you in order to get better. I will probably make a few calls to help us all get through this situation. I don’t want to leave any rock unturned. So, go, Thor. We’ll take care of him from here.”

 

With their permission granted, Thor moved robotically to the silver elevator, not daring to cast even one look back at his fellow teammates until the elevator chimed and he stood almost lifelessly as the doors closed before him.

 

Only in the quiet of his loneliness did tears stream down his cheeks for everything he had lost and everything he was still in danger of losing again.

 

~#*#~

 

It was with great care, that the thunder god did not feel, that he turned the knobs of the shower on and stepped into the frozen droplets. The icy, chilled water reminded Thor of Jotunheim and, in turn, his brother lying dead on that shoreline.

 

Thor couldn’t wrap his mind around what had exactly happened. One moment the Avengers were a team together in the helicarrier and the next, out of the corner of his eyes, Thor saw the green and gold clad family member he hadn’t seen in years disappear from his stance aboard the ship and fell, no, **plummeted** to the ocean below.

 

 _Not alone,_ Thor reminded himself. Barton was with him. The archer was strangling his brother underwater.

 

Thor gasped as though air refused to come into **his** lungs.

 

What a terrible and lonely death that would have been. And Loki did die, for a time, an hour they said, he was gone from the world. And, somehow, even though Loki had been absent in Thor’s heart for years, there had always existed that possibility that he could come back--but not in death. In death, Loki would be lost to Thor and lost to the world around him.

 

To think it was possible to exist without his younger sibling was a darkness Thor could not shed from his shoulders. How bleak the world would be without his trickster of a brother. There would be a gap of mischief in Thor’s soul that no other could replace. It would be almost equivalent to losing Jane, except much, much worse. Loki carried so many of the same memories as Thor from their family and their childhood, memories no other being, save Heimdall and father, could begin to imagine.

 

And now…now what? Loki could possibly never return to the world of the living, not in the same way as before. Thor hated the possibility but it was just that--a _possibility_. His brother could be brain damaged, a horror Thor knew not how to experience. Or Loki could be in a coma for the rest of his days. He could never come back at all while still being present in his body. But body and mind would be disconnected and, like that, would Loki even wish to live?

 

Thor clamped his tongue between his teeth and bit down hard until the taste of blood filled his gums and he was substantially distracted. For some reason, thinking of the horrors that lay in Loki’s mind meant the thunder god could not fester over the rage he still felt for Barton.

 

Why, why did the archer act on impulse?

 

All of this could have been prevented. If only Thor hadn’t sat so far away, he could have gotten to Loki first. He could have saved his brother--and wasn’t that the only job as an older sibling that he had? He should have been there for Loki. Now, before, later--always missing in action Thor was. When Loki went through his identity crisis--where was Thor? Banished to Midgard. Where was Thor when Loki was captured by the Chitauri? On Asgard, thinking his brother to be dead. Where was Thor when Loki invaded Midgard? Fighting against his brother and against his alien army that he couldn’t have possessed alone. Every time Loki needed Thor, really, truly needed an older brother and someone on his side, Thor was never there. Even when he was physically there, it was always in opposition. Thor had seen Loki die again in Svartalfheim only for him to appear alive again when Thor had been so convinced that he was finally forever gone.

 

But he hadn’t seen, let alone spoken, to Loki since then. It had been eight long, mischief absent years. Thor had naturally thought him dead, only for him to reappear in a shroud of mystery back on Midgard only to plunge into the ocean with….him. **Barton**.

 

Thor hadn’t spoken to the archer yet about what happened-- **why** it happened--and it was looking like he wouldn’t get the chance to yet. Thor had to be different this time; he had to be on the side of his brother, no matter how much it caused his heart to break. Thor didn’t want to cause a rift amongst the team but he felt now that he had no choice. He couldn’t seemingly betray Loki again. He had almost completely lost Loki, just as he did Frigga, and Thor couldn’t bear that any more. He needed, **required** , some aspect of his dysfunctional family to remain intact.

 

Otherwise, what point was there? What point in anything was there? If Thor couldn’t be loyal to his blood, why was he ever trying to pretend to be there for Loki?

 

He needed to change for the better. For Loki’s sake. Finally, Thor was going to do something just for Loki’s sake. That had to mean both something and everything.

 

Thor had just stepped out of the bathroom, his clothing a black and grey combination when he settled heavily, still largely wet, into his bed. He curled up into a ball and forced his mind to clear, which was a struggle of epic proportions, before he heard an eager knocking on his bedroom’s door.

 

“Thor,” Man of Iron said from the other side. “We think he’s waking up.”

 

A sizzle of new energy entered Thor’s bloodstream, as adrenaline passed through the exhaustion that crippled his self-esteem.

 

“I will be right there,” he murmured, taking a moment to breathe before rising again and taking the shriveling motivation lying within him to face the world and his brother once again.

 

He hoped, eternally, that it wouldn’t be for the last time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OG A/N: 
> 
> Welp, this took me forever to update! My apologies on that end!! Between writer’s block and updating different stories (if you read my others you’ll start to see a similar theme/pattern to them, like in this chapter it reminds me of ‘Severed’) and dealing with finals and summer beginning…I’ve had a lot on my plate! My wrist also protested all of this writing alongside some book reviews that I handwrote so that also explains my absence, at least of the last week! Here’s hoping I can get more handwriting chapters done on various stories (as I have multiple ones in progress at the moment) and then typed and uploaded. :]! Any who let me know what you thought of this and how the story is progressing!! If you have time, check out some of my other stories, too! :] 
> 
> Oh, and I could have sworn I mentioned this in previous chapters so unless I’m mixing up my timelines with other fics, this story does take place in an AU 8 years after Thor: The Dark World… Right? Yeah, let’s go with that! Thank you SO MUCH for reading!! Love to you all! 
> 
> Handwritten: 3/7, 3/9, 5/28, 5/29  
> Typed: 6/1, 6/4  
> Edited: 6/4/2018
> 
> Sept 2019 A/N:
> 
> Heyyyy, sorry you guys! I thought this story was all up to date like all my others that I have featured now on AO3 but apparently I forgot to do that! Anyhow, on the plus side, I'm typing up Chp 5 now and should have it up by tonight! So, enjoy two ~new~ chapters for this story. :]   
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy them!! :D


	5. Chapter 5

His senses, for which he did have, were on fire. His eyes were closed but he could still smell the atrocious odor of burning flesh. He knew the smell all too well after his stay with the Other. Oh, how they would singe and burn his skin, their sweaty six fingered hands slapping against the wounds until his body would inevitably heal and they would start the whole process over again.

 

Loki cringed internally at the memories but he must have flinched in reality because he noticed now that the faraway, muffled sounds at various pitches were actually voices of those around him.

 

His breath caught in his throat, strangling him and he felt the organ in his chest clash painfully into his ribcage.

 

Oh, how dear and how much his body ached. Pain engulfed his senses as the world clouded into a kaleidoscope of colors swimming before his closed lids. He groaned, his throat feeling dry and his vocal chords buckling at the pain there, too.

 

It felt like he was frozen and encased in pain. Had he not been through enough already?

 

He felt a warmth rest upon his hand as he could feel cool tendrils flowing up his veins until they reached his heart then collided back out to his lungs and brain again.

 

Within mere moments the paid faded away, dulling in its intensity, gradually at first then all at once.

 

He let out a long exhale, relief swarming through him.

 

Maybe he was all right, yet.

 

Maybe this wasn’t the end for him.

 

He heard whispers echo around him, as if they were rotating around his skull and he moved his head back and forth trying to decipher their words but when he swallowed again his throat screamed in protest and felt like a great pressure was being placed, no, squeezed upon it.

 

He coughed, choking on his saliva and his chest ignited with white hot pain again and he immediately moved his arm to clutch at it but another explosion ricocheted outwards from his shoulder and Loki gasped involuntarily.

 

Of course, with this fast intake of breath he could feel his ribs creak and groan, needles stabbing him in his lungs until he cried out again, the process repeating itself for what seemed like centuries.

 

“--ki!”

 

Was someone speaking to him?

 

His erratic moving chest caved in and out at his frantic inspirations--trying to get air, trying to be without pain--why was there so much pain?

 

“--ki?”

 

A question now.

 

Was he the question?

 

What was his name again?

 

He tried in his panic to pay closer attention and between the blood pounding through his system and the pants for air coming from his lips at his gurgling throat--he heard it.

 

“Lo--?”

 

The start of his name.

 

He was someone, after all.

 

His name was Kilo. Wait…that didn’t feel right.

 

He felt the absence of warmth at his hand, before it reappeared elsewhere.

 

Now it was at his other shoulder.

 

He had two?

 

His brain was sluggish, taking too long to decipher the world around him.

 

He grew bored, restless and wanted to just go back to sleep where his mother was waiting for him anxiously.

 

He wasn’t sure how he knew it but he felt his heart clench in his chest as he realized he wasn’t going to see her again.

 

Not now, not yet, not today.

 

He had a life to lead. A life he knew she wanted him to live to see.

 

He wasn’t sure why or how he had gotten to where he was but he knew she was with him--in spirit, in his heart, in his mind.

 

He could feel her tracing her fingers into his hair, softly singing his favorite lullaby to him in a low whisper. It immediately soothed him. He felt his body relax and became aware of the cool plush beneath him.

 

Frigga was here.

 

And she wanted him to live. To truly, fully and completely live.

 

He knew then that he’d try his best. He told her that he might fail at times and she said she believed in him and had faith in the process.

 

Something about seeing the future from the other side gave her these ideas.

 

Loki chuckled, hoarse and hurting his throat but she smiled at him all the same and told him it was time to awaken.

 

He didn’t want to say goodbye so soon and sadness pricked her beautiful eyes.

 

“It is time, my son. Time…”

 

 _For me to live,_ he thought and she nodded.

 

Words died on his lips as she faded from view. For a second he held his breath before he took the plunge and opened his eyes.

~#*#~ 

It was Thor that was the source of Loki’s perception of warmth.

 

When the heart monitor peaked as Loki’s eyes fluttered beneath their hoods and he reconnected his consciousness to his body which ignited the pain that was otherwise lying dormant at rest, it was Thor that held his hand.

 

It was Thor’s panicked blue eyes that shouted at doctor Banner to give his brother something--anything.

 

“Just make the pain stop!” Thor remembered crying out because his brain hadn’t stopped the loop tape of his words from being repeated. Over and over the words chanted as Thor’s heart raced, panic in his steps as he shifted from foot to foot.

 

Before he realized it, Banner was injecting a clear liquid into Loki’s IV.

 

“This should help,” Bruce murmured, knowing it might not be enough. He didn’t tell Thor this because he’d rather like to remain in one piece.

 

Thor watched as his brother’s face relaxed and his shoulders immediately dropped their revved up tension.

 

 _Thank goodness,_ Thor thought with relief, his emotions spilling out from the container inside himself that he had placed upon a metaphorical table.

 

Bruce was asking someone else something but Thor never heard him. Instead he kept his vision on Loki so hyper-focused that alarm ran through his sympathetic nervous system when he saw Loki’s head lolling back and forth, trying to identify where the voice was coming from.

 

He still hadn’t opened his eyes and Thor found himself praying to the Allfather that he still had the ability to.

 

Loki began to cough and distress re-emerged on his features--Thor saw it all, the way his brows pulled down together, the way his lips thinned and paled, his complexion lighter than a few moments ago, wrinkles appearing at the edge of his eyes as his muscles seemed to cramp and become taut.

 

Thor immediately felt breathless himself, especially when Loki’s injured arm came swinging to his chest and the younger god yelped in pain.

 

Thor held his breath as he couldn’t find his voice in his throat to tell him not to do that and doubly so when the monitor began beeping faster and faster in its pace.

 

“Loki? Loki?”

 

It was Banner talking, his brown eyes aglow with worry and for the fact that the demigod was unknowingly making his injuries, and therefore his pain, worse.

 

“Loki? If you can hear me, please stop moving. You’re okay now. But you’re seriously injured and we need you to take slow, deep breaths. Loki?”

 

Thor knew Bruce meant well, his concern evident in his posture but Thor knew from experience that he’d spoken too many words. With the state of his brother’s hyperventilation he likely wasn’t even aware of what they were saying, let alone doing.

 

This realization sparked new hope and direction in Thor’s breast.

 

He unhinged his jaw and said through the small gap between his teeth, “Loki! Loki?”--He waited a beat even though it killed him inside. “Loki?” he repeated, taking his palm away from Loki’s uninjured hand and instead placing it on his free shoulder.

 

His throat clenched when he instinctively moved to cradle his brother’s neck but he stopped himself just in time.

 

Bruised finger marks lingered on the white flesh and Thor observed another flare sparking off his rage but he kept it in check.

 

Because he had to.

 

Because Loki needed him, here and now.

 

And Thor knew he **had** to be there for him, too.

 

“Barnet legges i vugge nu, stundom gråter og stundom ler. Barnet legges i vugge nu, stundom gråter og stundom ler.” Thor softly whispered these lyrics from a lullaby he had overheard Frigga sing more than once with Loki when he was a small babe. He caressed Loki’s long hair, still damp--from either seawater or sweat, he wasn’t sure--and massaged his scalp with gentle, loving care.

 

“Mamma tar meg på sitt fang, danser meg meg att og fram.” Thor watched as the stress embedded with its deep claws into Loki’s body began to loosen and let him free.

 

Thor smiled sadly, wishing his mother could truly be here to help Loki in ways that Thor felt incompetent by.

 

He continued to sing to Loki even after the blips of the Midgardian machines fell into a steady, calm pace.

 

He felt warmth spread throughout his chest like a fire burns through a forest when he saw those two beautifully green eyes part. They looked as though evergreens had grown within those irises and Thor finally felt his body exhale.

 

He was awake--but now the new challenges were birthed.

~#*#~ 

Green irises held constricted pupils, pools of the galaxy, their holder being made up of the stardust from the sky beyond.

 

Their holder, their captor, blinked a few times, trying to understand, trying to reconfigure, come to terms with where they were.

 

“Brother,” Thor rasped and immediately, green eyes widening, they found their elder sibling’s gaze.

 

Loki’s lips pursed and his breathing turned to a painful rattle again as he croaked, “Thor?”

 

Tears sprang to Thor’s ocean eyes of their own accord. He vaguely felt their warm trickle down the sides of his face.

 

He was so choked up that words never formed on his lips so he squeezed Loki’s shoulder lightly and the trickster’s breathing settled back into a weary rhythm.

 

Bruce, not meaning to intrude, held out to Thor an oxygen mask from behind Loki’s head. He mouthed to the thunder god to set it upon Loki’s nose and mouth.

 

Thor, awestruck and dizzy, told his brother with only a small hiccup in his voice, “Loki, we need to place this on your face…to…help your breathing. Is that all right?” He eyed his brother cautiously as if he expected the mischief maker to fight back, teleport or otherwise reject Thor’s efforts of helping him.

 

Loki instead nodded eagerly and Thor placed the mask over his face.

 

Bruce, meanwhile, turned the oxygen on so that fresh, cool air wafted into Loki’s cheeks.

 

The trickster immediately settled, his anxieties for the moment halting. His brain, of course, dusty and untidy as it was wouldn’t stop its frenzied, abrupt thought patterns.

 

But for the moment, as Loki internally questioned who was ‘we’ he greedily sucked in breath after breath and Thor let him.

 

It was probably five minutes later when Thor heaved a heavy breath from his own chest as he saw the sleepiness bend over Loki’s eyelids.

 

Reacting strongly to his brother’s presence again, Loki gazed at him with eyes pleading, pleading to provide him with answers that he so desperately needed.

 

Thor swallowed, inhaling deeply, preparing himself mentally for the shit storm that was about to take place.

 

“Brother, do you, do you remember what happened?” Thor began unsteadily, tripping over his own tongue.

 

Loki’s vision shifted and when it did, when he began to survey the room around him, Thor knew, Thor **knew** there was nothing he could do to stop his brother’s curiosity.

 

What Loki found was the gaze of one Steve Rogers, one Tony Stark and one Bruce Banner.

 

He gulped instantaneously and shifted to rise in the bed but moaned a whimpering sound as he looked towards Thor, betrayed.

 

“What did you do?” Loki meant for it to be a snarl but it came out a petulant, shaky gasp.

 

The heart monitor easily caught the quickening pace of his ticker and Loki was thin enough that Thor could see the flickering of his pulse beneath the bruises on his neck.

 

From four feet back, Tony Stark held his hands, quivering slightly, within one another as he spoke up, “Um, maybe we should go?” His brown eyes skipped from Thor to Bruce. “I think we’re upsetting him and I’d rather not have his blood on my hands again.” He swallowed; nervousness unbecoming of the inventor.

 

Loki’s brow perked and his cruel gaze found Thor’s.

 

“Explain, Thor.” He deadpanned but Thor was merely looking through Loki.

 

The trickster waited for his brother to say something but only hatred rivaled for triumph in his blue eyes. Loki wished he could shift uncomfortably if his body didn’t hurt so much.

 

He was still waiting three minutes later but Thor seemed to have stopped working.

 

He shifted his gaze to the--luckily not green--doctor. “Please,” he begged, surprising even himself.

 

Bruce produced a grim smile.

 

“You were in an…accident,” he weakly finished, even as he had rehearsed his strong reply in his mind. He couldn’t help but find himself looking to the other Avengers for help.

 

Steve stepped forward, radiating serenity.

 

“What do you remember, Loki?” Steve hoped that if they could piece together what the demigod remembered they could fill in the blanks with, and he cringed at this, a temporarily fabricated story.

 

Loki’s eyes narrowed considerably.

 

“My body may be fragmented but my mind is not. I am the God of Mischief and Lies, and I know when someone is lying to me. I will ask only once more, what the **fuck** happened to me?” His eyes had taken on a rage that made his garbled words slow and deliberate, adding to the wave of terror that encircled the team as they were reminded of whom they were dealing with.

 

Thor, for what it was worth, chuckled.

 

Loki’s eyes whipped to him and a tight lipped expression just barely contained his frustration.

 

“Why are you--?” the god began but found that Thor had started to speak at the same time, his low voice a rumble that demanded attention.

 

“You really haven’t changed a bit, have you, brother?” Thor looked fondly upon the trickster.

 

Loki made to comment but new tears had trickled down Thor’s face. Loki felt a wave of confusion lace through his body.

 

“Oh, how I’ve missed you, Loki.” Sadness and loss engulfed Thor’s eyes. “And I almost lost you once again.” Thor bent over, kissing Loki above the head which would have made him feel embarrassed if it wasn’t for Bruce’s next words.

 

“You almost died,” he supplied, apparently having decided to start with the most frightening news first.

 

“Technically you did die,” Tony piped in, teeth lightly pinching his bottom lip. “You were dead for over an hour,” he added, almost absent mindedly.

 

“You drowned,” Steve mentioned with eyes also a little lost in pain. “We were giving you CPR but it wasn’t working.”

 

Bruce interrupted with facts, “CPR for an out of hospital cardiac arrest only results in about ten percent survival rates. It’s actually the electrical shock to the heart that works the best.”

 

“Your brother used his hammer to shock you.” Steve supplied and Loki quirked a brow to his sibling.

 

“And that worked?” He asked quietly.

 

Thor nodded solemnly, eyes distant.

 

“It took many a try, brother.”

 

“Which would explain the damage that’s been wrought upon your body,” Bruce interjected, swallowing hard.

 

 _Maybe this version of the truth will saturate him,_ he thought until Loki spoke again.

 

“And what are my injuries, exactly?” He crinkled his nose, adding, “That also explains the smell.”

 

Bruce nodded, replying, “You have a dislocated right shoulder and a fracture on your left femur. Your sternum--the breastbone--has sustained damage from the CPR and you likely have a few broken ribs. The electricity combined with your heritage means that you’ve sustained burn-like injuries to your internal organs, likely stiffening the veins and arteries. We’re hoping that as you heal these side effects will improve on their own.” Bruce finished with a calming deep breath as the demigod mulled over these details.

 

“Ooookay,” he whispered, raising his eyes to the doctor. “But that doesn’t explain why my throat hurts,” Loki observed and Tony made an audible hiss--which landed green eyes to his brown.

 

Tony raised his hands in surrender, stammering while thinking they almost got away with this.

 

“I--I didn’t,” he murmured but it was Thor’s small squeeze that altered Loki’s stare.

 

“You were--”

 

“Strangled.” Loki’s face became overshadowed with pain--whether it was emotional or physical it was difficult to tell. His fallen lids shut like ominous locked doors clanging closed. “It was…” but he never finished the thought as the physical discomfort overrode his senses and he felt his heart struggle to beat properly.

 

“Too….” he breathed shallowly. “Too….much….” He coughed, his nerve endings screaming with his heart rate tripling in speed.

 

He barely recalled cursing these Midgardian machines for their obvious traitorous nature as his eyes rolled back into his skull, showing only the whites of his orbs as his body began to shake uncontrollably.

 

“I need a syringe of adenosine, morphine and to put him under a chemically induced coma!” Bruce cried out, jumping into action as Steve rushed to the medicine cart.

 

The super soldier scurried back over to Bruce as the scientist took charge, telling Thor hurriedly that he needed to stand clear and that they were going to continue helping Loki until he was more stable.

 

“We have to get his heart rate under control!” Bruce all but yelled, frenzied movements still deliberate and careful.

 

As he injected the medications he held his breath as he watched the monitors.

 

For a moment, Loki’s body put up a fight, increasing his heartbeats to over three hundred before dropping--dropping **too** \--quickly back into the early one hundreds.

 

Only after the beats had finished fumbling over each other, coming dangerously close to fibrillation before falling back into a steady, calmer rhythm, did Bruce let go of a long exhalation.

 

His disheveled hair and slightly shaking hands as adrenaline punched through his own body came to more manageable levels as he said, one hand pulling a blanket up to Loki’s chin, “We’re going to wait a few days until he’s more medically stable. That may be sooner rather than later but I don’t want to over-shock his system again so soon after he’s trying to heal. We need him functioning and alive. The coma should buy his organs some time to recuperate. Any objections?” Bruce raised a brow almost in challenge but no one bit.

 

“Good,” he said, hands wracking through his hair again. “Now, we have an archer to check on.” He let out an unsteady breath, chewed his lip then admonished, “After we eat.” He looked to each of his team members, hastily. “We need to take care of ourselves too, not just the two of them.” He pointed out earnestly.

 

Tony held both his hands up in the air, stretching the panic out of his system as he questioned, “Who wants pizza? I could use a pizza right now. Jarvis? Would you mind?”

 

The AI replied calmly, “Of course, sir.”

 

As the three mortals began to trample out of the medical bay, Thor squeezed Loki’s shoulder one last time, placing a warm kiss on his forehead.

 

“Until next time, brother.” He whispered, admiring the peace in his brother’s features.

 

He moved to the corners of the room before exiting with worry and love in his every step.

~#*#~ 

They had just finished devouring the plain cheese and pepperoni with pineapple pizzas (Steve had grown into strange tastes) when Bruce suggested it was as good a time as any to bring a slice to Barton under the veil of support while also medically checking on him and potentially questioning him on what the hell had happened.

 

To be honest, Bruce wasn’t so sure they’d get to the latter after how Loki’s interaction had gone down. The scientist was worried about the trickster but with Jarvis’ eyes on him and knowing the coma would put him out for at least two days, he knew he had to put his doubts on a shelf, separate himself from his emotions and focus on what he could do and provide in this very moment.

 

When he looked over his fellow teammates he felt he wasn’t alone in that; because of this, when they reached the level of the infirmary Bruce said, “We have to walk into this with an open mind. We can’t bring our emotions into this,” Bruce looked pointedly at Thor. “Whatever happened is what happened. We can ask some questions but don’t expect a long speech. I want to know why just as much as you guys, but we may not get that answer today. Can we do this and do what’s right?” Bruce studied each of them carefully.

 

Tony was looking down at his shoes, still wringing his hands but he set a wince of a smile on his lips as he bobbed.

 

Steve looked sick but he nodded too, even while he was frowning, mustering up the inner strength within his soul to do this and prepare for what was yet to come.

 

Bruce’s eyes hung the longest on Thor who held his fingers in tight fists but when he felt the mortal’s gaze upon him he forcibly let the tension roll away from his otherwise uptight shoulders. He sighed once, twice then four times. His blue eyes held questions but his anger, for now, was fading.

 

Bruce picked up his chin in more confidence than he felt and stepped into the white and pale blue room.

 

The red-headed assassin sat in an uncomfortable wire chair--some things about medical settings didn’t change--and she had her head resting on her palms.

 

She slightly quirked her brow upon hearing the doors open but otherwise held Barton’s hand with comfort and encouragement. Her green eyes could melt the coldest heart away and she was using this advantage to stare at Clint. She whispered something to the agent, what could have been instructions to kill any of them but was more likely to be open to their questions and honest with his answers.

 

Clint’s face was caught somewhere between impassive and emotive. Bruce couldn’t tell what emotion lay in his eyes and he didn’t dare to hasten a guess, for fear that the wrong indication would blow the entire precarious situation up.

 

Instead, he strode forwards and tinkered with Clint’s medical equipment, bordering on completely avoiding the archer’s gaze.

 

Tony walked up next, plate of pizza in hand as he clapped a palm onto Clint’s blanketed feet, declaring, “Wakey, wakey Barty Boy, your dinner awaits.” He smirked and handed the dish to Natasha who grabbed the nearby moving table that was then presented in front of the archer.

 

The archer narrowed his gaze coldly and said, “I know what I did. You can stop pretending like we’re still friends.” He added quietly, a lie nonetheless, “I’m not hungry.”

 

“Bullshit,” Tony snapped, and so, yeah maybe he was still feeling a bit hangry--could he honestly be blamed for that?

 

Bruce shot him a warning glare and Steve piped in with Thor behind his shoulder, “We’re not going anywhere. And we’ve all had a long, hard day. We’ve already ate so there’s none of us--” Steve jerked at Tony, trying to pull his inner spirit animal back inside his body, “--who are going to steal your plate. We’ve got one for you too, Natasha.” Steve’s blue eyes fell to hers briefly. Gazing back at Barton he added, “We talked it over, and there’s no way we’re reporting you to SHIELD. We’ll figure out some kind of cover story but we’re not here to get you arrested. We’re here…as family.” Steve blushes a little and Natasha couldn’t help but think how adorable it was. Although her face was evasive, she appreciated the team’s love and care more than they probably realized.

 

Clint, visibly shocked, clearly wasn’t expecting it either.

 

He spluttered out a choked back, tear filled, “You do realize the magnitude of what I’ve done, right? There’s no way those agents aren’t going to go to Fury about this and when that happens I’ll immediately be canned.” Emotion sounding like immense guilt and regret--for whom it was placed on, was still unclear--pooled to the core of the Earth for the assassin.

 

“We know how much you’ve put yourself and your skillset into this job,” Steve validated with care.

 

“So if anyone tries to can you, they’ll have to can all of us. We’re not leaving you.” Stark said firmly. “Besides I’m sure a few thousand dollars will make them change their minds.” The inventor winked at him but Barton wasn’t certain how much of that proclamation was a joke and not fact.

 

He blinked a few times, seemingly dumbstruck.

 

“This is going to put a wedge between us,” he said softly, trying to look back into Thor’s strong face.

 

The thunder god was too busy staring at the floor but he shrugged noncommittally. He didn’t utter a word while Bruce was negotiating, “We’re enrolling all of us into therapy. There are some obvious and persistent underlying issues here and there’s no sense in having a moment that tests all of our resiliencies crumble us apart as though we were nothing. We’re all a team now, including Loki--either for the time being or forever--and we have to do what’s right by him, by you, by all of us. You and Loki are going to need intensive therapy and the rest of us will follow suit because we definitely all have our issues. There’s nothing wrong in getting help. It’s a sign of immense strength, never weakness.” Bruce patted Clint on the shoulder. “It doesn’t excuse what happened. We’ve all gone through trauma in our lives and this time is no different. We’re going to be facing extraordinary challenges given who this is about but the therapist will meet us here at the tower.” Bruce glanced at Tony.

 

“For now, we’re going to wait on Loki to be cleared medically. Then Tony will make some calls.”

 

“So he’s…he’s alive?” Clint’s voice cracked, a million emotions flickering across his features.

 

“Barely.” The whisper came from the thunder god. “I know not yet how I will be towards you but I have to be on my brother’s side, even if that means being crass towards you for a while. I imagine you understand,” Thor stated bitterly, eyes daring to look at the archer with still smoldering resentment.

 

“I deserve that,” Clint stated easily, nodding.

 

“Ohohoho, yeah you do.” Tony emphasized, laughing in a way that led Steve to send him a dirty look.

 

The archer lowered his gaze, guilt residing there again. “How bad?” he whispered.

 

“Bad,” Stark replies first. “It took us an hour plus to revive him. He’s….in tough physical shape. We tried speaking to him but caused the dude more panic and pain than was necessary. Bruce put him in a coma to help his body physically heal…”

 

“We don’t know if there are any neurological deficits yet and…” Bruce began with Steve finishing, “We have no way of knowing what his psychological damage is yet, either.”

 

“So, a waiting game.” Natasha remarked, quietly pushing the slice of pizza towards her comrade.

 

Barton relaxed some, taking up the pile of grease in one wobbly hand as he brought it to his mouth.

 

“Well, shit, I probably pissed off the wrong person, didn’t I?” He pondered and the three men plus a demigod agreed.

 

“For now though,” Bruce expanded his arms to include all of them, “we rest. We all need it to fight against tomorrow.”

 

He moved to the doorway with a still mouthwatering Tony Stark, an encouraging Steve Rogers and a bristled thunder god when Barton called back after them:

 

“Thanks, guys. Th-thank you.” He looked directly at Thor then and Thor swiveled his head a little as he made a face that said he’d probably be a dick to Clint for the next few months and he really wanted to know why this happened, yet he was willing to one day forgive him properly.

 

Clint would take what he could get, sharing his slice with Tasha until her own was brought.

 

He didn’t know how but he imagined to himself that they all slept like heavy logs that night.

 

And maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow would replenish new hope into them all as the sun would rise high in the sky and they would all have the gift of taking in and exhaling a long, relieving breath.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Well, it’s uh, it’s been a while! I apologize for not having properly updated this story in over a year. That was a big oversight on my part, and I hope that this chapter can kinda make up for it a smidge? :D 
> 
> I was recently in the last week, when I started writing this chapter, reading other angsty/hurt and comfort fanfics so I kinda upped the stakes in this one too as a result. *cue evil laugh* 
> 
> But I hope that it was enjoyable and made up for lost time! I think I fleshed this chapter out more than previous ones so that’s also a plus. :] I also wanted to have that team-like bravado for Clint too, as I know a reader of this story didn’t want to paint him as a bad guy, which I totally understand. So I hope this is something they were looking for! :] 
> 
> Oh! I almost forgot! The lullaby is Norwegian and I found it on Youtube under the username: “don macdonald” and it loosely translates into: “The child is laid down in the crib, sometimes cries, sometimes laughs. Mother takes me upon her lap, dances with me to and fro” I wanted something within that language to add something extra special to that scene. :] 
> 
>  
> 
> PS: I hope the medical stuff is mostly accurate. I spent a good portion of my typing this chapter up researching medications and CPR/AED information, so hopefully it’s all set, but worst case scenario I just update it in the future. :] 
> 
> I will next be updating: IIOC, D&D, S and eventually, ALU. For now, I shall bamboozle elsewhere. I still have to edit through and re-read this chapter, :P 
> 
> Handwritten: 8/28 & 8/29/2019  
> Typed & Edited: 8/30 & 9/1/2019
> 
> Background music while writing: 90 Days by P!nk and Wrabel; Don’t Give Up on Me by Andy Grammer; Somebody Loves You by Plumb; The Real Hero by Alan Silvestri and Rescue by Lauren Daigle 
> 
> Thank you for reading and leave me a review, if you have time!! xxx

**Author's Note:**

> Present day A/N as of 12/30/18:
> 
> Hey everybody! Nothing bothers me more than my lack of proper ending off of my chapters back from previous years! It just goes to show how much can change from one point in time to the next (my font type for instance). This is a story I have most up to date on my fanfiction.net account under this same name, but I figured I would start to add it to here, too, although I've gotten stuck in the chapter I was working on a few months ago. Regardless, maybe typing/adding it to AO3 will inspire me again and I can continue onwards with it. :) 
> 
> Let me know what you think in a review, I'd love to interact with you guys!   
> This chapter was written 8/26/2016. 
> 
> I remember I was inspired to write this fic after seeing that scene in Thor where Loki picks up the Frost Giant's casket (the name is escaping me at the moment, gah!) and then finds out from Odin what his true parentage is, and there's water on the sides of the stairs. Just got my wheels turning! This story also has cover art, just FYI. :)   
> Any who, thank you for reading!!! <3


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